6-26
Mishima steals a glance back towards the entrance. "Is Akira coming?"
Ryuji follows his gaze, then shakes his head. "He's busy today."
Ann crosses her arms. The cafe's din muffles their words, and for this, she's grateful. For the past few weeks, she's been trying to be more cognizant of what they say in public, and of how she handles herself as a Phantom Thief in the real world. "Why didn't you take down that stuff about him?" She demands.
Mishima's attention snaps back to them. "What'd you mean?"
Ryuji's face darkens and he growls, "That crap Kamoshida made you put up, dude. It's still online. Why didn't you remove it?"
Mishima's eyes widen, and his face pales by a shade. "Oh. Oh. Oh, geez. I didn't... I mean, I didn't think about it. Once it was out, it was out, you know?"
Ryuji lets out a long groan. "Yuuki, man."
"I'll take it down," Mishima replies, tripping over his words. "Today. I swear. Right after I leave."
"No," Ann declares. She's surprised as how harsh she sounds, and decides to dial it back a bit. "Not yet. He'll tell you when to take it down. Leave it where it is, for now." Akira didn't want to risk removing the information, right after Kaneshiro had seen it. He was afraid it would draw the yakuza's attention even more. She reaches out, pulls a napkin from the dispenser, and starts to pluck at the edges. The whole scenario leaves a bad taste in her mouth. She knows they can't just stop, but she wants to pull Akira out immediately, consequences be damned.
"Anything else from Nakanohara?" Ryuji whispers, leaning over the table.
"No," the boy replies, shaking his head. "I did what you told me, Takamaki. I thanked him for the update, and cut the communication. It was all done anonymously, over the PhanSite."
"You know you can't meet with him," Ann says. It's not a question.
Mishima nods so hard, she wonders if he'll get whiplash. "I know. I know. Akira told me. I'm not going to do something like that again, don't worry."
Part of her feels sorry for Yuuki Mishima. He was put into a bad situation, just like she was. Kamoshida hurt him, bullied him, and berated him into submission. She feels this should endear him to her. She wants to like him. She wants to view him as an ally, and by accounts, he is. She's given him the benefit of the doubt before. But for all his talk about wanting to help, she was beginning to wonder if Mishima was more trouble than he was worth.
The PhanSite was a useful tool. Necessary, even. But maybe Akira was right to want to take away Mishima's admin rights.
She remembers the water rushing into her mouth. This wasn't some game they were playing. They could die. Get arrested. She felt for Akira before, but now she's starting to understand his perspective.
"And the requests?" Ryuji asks. "I'm sure a bunch have come in."
"Uh-huh," Mishima grunts, and makes a big show of looking around.
Oh god, Ann thinks. Enough already with this.
Mishima flips his bag open and pulls out a few sheets of paper.
He wrote them down? Ann wonders. Come on! She keeps this thought to herself, but files it away. She'll let Akira know later, and maybe he can talk some sense into Mishima. He slides the papers across the table, and Ann snatches them up and shoves them into her own bag.
"That's all the recent ones," Mishima says. "I noticed a few, in particular. There's a rumor going around Shibuya that someone's been hurting cats."
Ryuji's brow furrows. "Hurting cats? What'd ya mean?"
Mishima shrugs. "Apparently, someone's been capturing strays or escaped housecats and torturing them, or something."
Ann and Ryuji share a look. Morgana won't like hearing about that, Ann thinks. She's sure Ryuji has the same thought. When she looks back at Mishima, she notices his face is all twisted in a strange look. "What's wrong?" She asks.
"It's just..." He starts, then trails off. Ann is about to demand he spit it out already, but he continues, "I've noticed some theories cropping up online."
"About what?" Ryuji asks.
"The Phantom Thieves. People are saying all kinds of crazy stuff. A few are even suggesting you're agents of a foreign government, and the vanguard of a massive attack."
"Huh?" Ryuji asks, tilting his head to the side. "That's some stupid bullshit, right there."
"But there are others too," Mishma replies. "Some are saying you guys are the cause of the mental shutdowns." Before either of them can reply, he keeps talking, voice picking up speed. "I know, it's crazy, and it's only a small number of people that seem to be saying it, but I don't know. It's got me worried. It's not on some isolated board. There are users all over the internet, on different platforms, arguing the point. They don't have a lot of views, and most of the time, they're down voted into oblivion, but they're still there."
Akira should hear this, Ann thinks. She knows there were some rumors circulating when Madarame died, but she'd figured they'd blown over. If there were people online, linking the Phantom Thieves to the mental shutdowns, that could grow into a big problem. She looks at Ryuji and nods.
They begin to slide out from their seats.
"You guys are leaving?" Mishima asks, his voice high and whiny.
"We need to get going," Ryuji tells him. "Got some stuff to take care of."
"Okay," Mishima replies, and lets his gaze fall to the table.
Ann isn't sure why she says what she says next, but she reaches over and rests a hand on his shoulder. "Mishima, you're doing a great job." She beams at him. "Keep it up."
Mishima brighten at this, and offers her a number of assurances that he will.
After they leave, Ryuji asks, "What was that about? I thought you were pissed at him?"
"I was," she replies. "I am. I don't know. You know how he is." She shakes her head. "I'm just worried."
"Me too," Ryuji mutters, and shoves his hands in his pockets. "It's gettin' to be a habit."
#
When Akira enters Kaneshiro's hideout, he finds it bustling with activity. A number of older men carry boxes and duffle bags down the steps towards the parking garage, and the younger members - students like him - are pressed against the wall, trying to stay out of the way.
There's a uncomfortable anxiety in the air, a tension that seems to echo through the narrow hallways and is worn in the face of every Dragon present. Akira realizes he has no place to be, and isn't sure he should just go and find Kaneshiro, so he spends time slipping through rooms, looking for Tsuda instead. He finds him in a stairwell, waving a few of the younger boys along. When he spies Akira, he hollers his name, and motions for him to follow as well.
Tsuda leads them to the second floor, and Akira tries to make himself as small as possible, near the back of the group. No one talks to him, and Akira figures this is just as well. They walk the length of a musty hall, and enter a room filled with empty shelves and a few dingy chairs shoved into the corner. "Line up," Tsuda barsk, and points at the the far wall.
The others move, and Akira follows. He doesn't indulge in the whispers the others partake in. No one seems sure what's going on, but Akira feels his blood quicken at the thought of it being similar to Makiyagami's 'talk' yesterday.
The door swings open, and Kaneshiro steps through. Muzaki and Nanashi follow him. A backpack is strapped to Muzaki's back. Between them, they drag a fourth person by the arms. The feet skip along the ground, and a low moan escapes from the beaten body. They drop him in the center of the room, and Kaneshiro chuckles.
"Thought you could just run, huh?" He asks.
Akira stares at the man on the ground, and in one horrible instance, realizes it isn't a grown man at all, but a student, just like him. It's Sakoda. The teen lifts his head towards Kaneshiro and whispers, "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, yeah," Kaneshiro replies, waving the words away. "You're sorry. Everyone's always sorry."
Sakoda runs his eyes over the group, and Akira wants to shift away, turn, afraid that he'll be recognize somehow. "I'm sorry," Sakoda repeats.
Kaneshiro addresses the group, gesturing to Sakoda. "See, this is what happens when you run. This is what happens when you can't hack it. You get hacked back." He shakes his head, almost sorrowful. "You all know this piece of shit. Not too long ago, this guy ran his mouth, talking about how vital he was to everything here. About how necessary he was. And then, he ran."
Someone from the line chuckles. Akira doesn't look to see who it is.
"I told you," Sakoda mutters. "It was the Pha-"
"The Phantom Thieves," Kaneshiro finishes. "Right. And a cat stole the Calling Card."
"It did," Sakoda insists. He struggles to his knees. "You have to believe me. They changed my heart. I didn't want to betray you, they just-"
Kaneshiro closes the distance between them, and smacks him across the face. It sounds like a concrete brick slamming to the ground. Sakoda drops to his side with a sharp cry.
"You don't get to walk away from this," Kaneshiro growls. "No one does. Not really. You came here because you wanted what I could offer you. And now you waste my time with your excuses. You ran away." He looks at Muzaki, and gestures with an open hand. Muzaki removes the backpack, reaches inside, and removes a power drill. He hands it to Kaneshiro. "Let's see how far you can run without your knees."
Sakoda begins to crawl towards the line. "Please," he sobs. "Don't."
Kaneshiro looks at the students in line. "This is a lesson. Actions have consequences. They always do. Don't pull this shit with me." Sakoda whimpers and Kaneshiro turns to march towards him.
Akira's mind races. Do something. This is our fault. We're the reason he's here. The reason this is happening. His brain argues that Sakoda always had a choice. But we made him confess. We put him in danger. Maybe. But they didn't make Sakoda run. There were ways out. Weren't there? There had to have been options, but Sakoda hadn't taken any of them. He had options, as many as I had, Akira thinks.
Kaneshiro approaches Sakoda, a big smile on his face.
Sakoda comes to a stop by Akira's feet. He looks up at him, and whispers, "Please."
Akira reaches down, seizes Sakoda by the shirt collar, balls his other hand into a fist, and brings it down into the kid's face. His fist stings as he raises it once more, the noise of it against Sakoda's cheek still ringing in the air. He brings it down again.
And again. And again. The cries beneath him become weaker and weaker. Akira hears laughter, and glances up to see Kaneshiro gazing at the two of them, a proud look on his face. Akira ignores this, and returns to beating Sakoda.
When he stops, he drops Sakoda back to the dusty floor. His hand throbs, and he drops to his knees next to Sakoda and whispers, "Don't say anything. Just be quiet."
"What was that about?" Kaneshiro asks, his giant smirk reduced to a contented upturn of his mouth.
Akira tries to put on his toughest face and shrugs. "Never liked him. He said some shit when I first got to Shujin." He nods towards the drill. "Point's been made. Right, Boss?"
Kaneshiro looks down the drill in his hand. By his expression, Akira wonders if he'd forgotten he held it. "Sure. Nanashi."
Nanashi steps forward. "Yeah, Boss?"
"Take this sack of shit out of here. Dump him in the street. Remind him that if he tells anyone about this, I'll do much worse that Kurusu here just did."
Nanashi walks up to Sakoda, seizes him by the foot, and begins to haul him across the floor, towards the door. A thin trickle of blood leaves a spotted trail as they move.
Kaneshiro approaches him, and Akira feels an aura of danger envelop him by the big man's presence. He rests a hand on Akira's shoulder. "There's a bathroom outside, to the right, down the hall. Go clean up."
Akira nods and exits Kaneshiro's grasp. He steps around the man, and heads for the door. He can feel everyone's eyes on his back. "That's what I like to see," Kaneshiro is saying as Akira exits the room.
He keeps his mind as blank as he can, rubbing his hands as he walks. Somewhere deeper in the building, music blares. Out of a room, a completely dazed looking girl walks, and comes to a halt before Akira. "Excuse me," he whispers, and slides past her. He takes a few more steps down the hall, and pushes open a door. Tiled floors, a sink, and set of stalls greet him.
He breathes a sigh of relief, then charges into the nearest stall, drops to his knees, and vomits into the toilet. He has the wherewithal to reach out and slam the stall door shut. Then, his thoughts vanish entirely, and he heaves over the bowl, again and again, his hands clutching the porcelain.
In the back of his mind, he can hear the bathroom door opening, and someone coming in, but he can't bother to focus. Once his stomach is empty, his body keeps trying to force something up, and terrible noises fly from his lips. It takes some time for him to calm down, and he crosses the bowl with his forearm, and rests his head against his skin.
He doesn't sob, or cry, or anything like that. He just breathes, and tries to will himself awake from whatever horrible dream this is.
But this isn't a dream. An image of Sakoda's broken face flashes through his mind, and he remembers looking up into the face of Suguru Kamoshida, as he hit him again, and again.
Akira shakes his head clear Get it together. Kaneshiro sent you in here. All you did was hit someone. You didn't kill anyone. No one died. Just get up, get clean, and go back out there.
He pushes himself to his feet, opens the stall door, and steps out.
Kaneshiro leans against the sink, massive arms folded across his chest. "Feeling better?" He asks.
Akira freezes. Part of him wants to charge the man, another part wants to bolt for the bathroom exit, and sprint his way out of the building, out of this entire city.
Kaneshiro looks him up and down. "That was quite the show you put on in there," he says. "And I'm willing to bet those Shujin dipshits believed it."
"Believed it?" Akira asks.
Kaneshiro steps to the side, and gestures to the sink. "Wash your hands."
Akira moves up to it, turns the faucet, and sticks his hands under the cool water.
Kaneshiro stares at him. "Are you okay?"
Akira holds his hand under the soap dispenser. A small bit kicks out. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just-"
"You just never assaulted anyone before."
Akira looks at him. Kaneshiro's smile grows bigger, more predatory. "I-"
"It'd be better if you kept your mouth shut for now." Akira hears his teeth clicks as he closes his mouth. Kaneshiro leans back on the wall and chuckles. "I figured as much. You don't have the look. I could tell, the second you showed up, that you weren't the bad guy everyone was making you out to be." He sticks a thumb over his shoulder, towards the door. "They all think you're some kind of monster. A real motherfucker. But that's all bullshit, isn't it?"
Akira coughs, once, then turns back to his hands. "You saw what was online."
"Sure. You were arrested for assaulting someone. But you didn't, did you?"
Akira feels his heart hammering in his chest. Do I lie? He'll see through it though! But if I admit to it, what will he do? He knows he can't deceive this man, even if his life depends on it. "No, I didn't."
Kaneshiro nods. "I believe you."
Those three words ring through his ears. It's been so long since he heard them, and it's source is so unexpected, he isn't sure what to say.
Kaneshiro takes a step closer to him. "I believe you," he repeats.
Akira wants to run back into the stall and throw up all over again, despite his stomach being empty. This isn't what he wants. This feels wrong, somehow. Tarnished.
Kaneshiro reaches behind his back and withdraws something from a pocket. Akira is surprised to find it's a soda. "Here," the big man says and holds it out to him. "It'll help."
Akira reaches out, afraid this is some kind of trap, and takes it from him. He pops the lid, wincing at the sound for whatever reason, and takes a short sip. The sugar hits his tongue, and it helps him to focus on that, for just a split second.
"So you got shafted," Kaneshiro mutters, running his eyes up and down Akira. "What happened?"
Akira takes another, longer sip of his drink before he answers. "I was walking home one night. And, I saw this drunk guy trying to push a woman into a car." He suddenly realizes that the story makes him out to be some sort of good person, and isn't sure that's the best thing for Kaneshiro to hear. "When I got closer," he says, carefully. "I bumped into him. He fell, and then told the police I assaulted him. The woman backed him up."
Kaneshiro throws back his head and laughs his deep, rumbling laugh. "She backed him up, huh? Must've been a scary guy. Or important. Sometimes they're the same thing, sometimes they're not."
Akira shrugs. "The judge didn't believe me. Here I am."
"Here you are," Kaneshiro says, and gestures towards the toilet. "Puking your guts out. That seem fair to you?"
Fair? Akira thinks. "No, it doesn't."
"That's because it isn't," Kaneshiro says. "Life is never fair. People can be fair. But life never is. Everyone gets fucked. Every single one of us." Kaneshiro lets out a long sigh and sticks his hands in his pockets, before rocking back and forth on his heels, almost as if he were barely able to contain his excitement. "So, the only thing you need to ask yourself, Akira Kurusu, is if you're going to let that be the story of your life. Are you going to let the unfairness of life rule you? Are you going to let people control you? Or are you going to do something about it?"
Akira isn't sure what he's supposed to say to this. "I-"
But then, Kaneshiro takes his hands from his pockets, and slaps them down on Akira's shoulders. Akira almost feels his legs give out under the pressure, but Kaneshiro is just smiling.
"We're not too different," Kaneshiro tells him. "A long time ago, people used to screw me over. Now, it's a different story." His grin broadens. "Stick with me, kid." He nods, as if having decided something. "You'll be coming with me, today. I think you should see what's coming." He leans in, and whispers, almost conspiratorially. "Soon enough, things will have changed, and we'll witness an entirely new world. Together."
Akira is rightly sure he has no idea what the fuck Kaneshiro is talking about, but he lets the man go on. Anything was better than incurring his wrath, and in that moment, Akira decides it's better to feign awe and investment in what Kaneshiro discloses, than ask for clarification.
Kaneshiro leads him out of the bathroom, and together they head down the hall. "Nanashi," Kaneshiro calls, as the man ascends the stairs further down the corridor. "We're bringing Kurusu."
Nanashi stops. Blinks. Looks ready to ask something, then just nods. "Sure thing, Boss."
Kaneshiro pushes him ahead. "Go with him, Akira. We'll be heading out soon."
"Where are we going?" Akira asks, then quickly throws in, "Boss."
"To see an old friend," Kaneshiro says, and pats Akira on the back. "Go on, I'll catch up. I've got a quick call to make."
Akira fumbles his way out of Kaneshiro's grasp and heads for Nanashi, who waves for him to hurry up with a look of impatience. Akira picks up the pace and joins the older man on the stairs. "Let's go," Nanashi says, in an unfriendly voice. He trudges down the steps, and Akira follows. He notices the top of a tattoo poking out over Nanashi's collar. The man's head is shaved, and a thin scar runs across the back of his head.
They turn the corner and Tsuda steps out from the next landing down. "Where are you going?" Tsuda asks.
Nanashi turns to him. "Kaneshiro's orders. The new kid is coming with us." He glances back at Akira. "He must like you."
"Whoa, wait a second," Tsuda says. "Are you taking him to see Kai-san and-"
"That's not your concern, Tsu-chan," Nanashi spits, quickly. "Just do your fucking job and get ready to move when you're called."
Tsuda spreads his hands wide. "The kid ain't even initiated yet. It's this second fucking day, Nanashi, and you're taking him along for this? That's too much."
Nanashi steps up to the bigger man, and if he is cowed, he doesn't show it. "If you've got a problem, take it up with the Boss. Otherwise, shut your mouth, and do what you're told, when you're told. You made your choice."
Tsuda licks his lips, quickly, and looks from Akira to Nanashi and back again. "Maybe I should come, you know? Make sure the kid doesn't freak out?"
Nanashi's hand snakes out and Tsuda's head slams against the wall. Akira blinks and jumps back at the noise. Nanashi has shoved two fingers up Tsuda's nostrils, and is pressing his head against the door he came out of. "You've got your marching orders. Question them again, and you won't like the consequences."
Tsuda hisses in pain, but manages a tiny nod, and Nanashi withdraws his hand. "Keep it moving, Kurusu," Nanashi says, and steps around Tsuda to continue the descent.
Tsuda watches Akira as he follows, and Akira sees him mouth the words, "Keep it together," before he's out of view.
Akira is only left to wonder what all this means, including who Kai-san is. Nanashi leads him down into the parking garage, and towards a great big black sedan. "Get in," he barks, and opens the back door for Akira. Akira climbs in, and Nanashi hesitates for a moment. "When we get there, don't say a goddamn word. Don't try to go anywhere. Don't try and do anything, unless someone tells you to do it first."
"Okay," Akira replies. "I understand."
"No, you don't," Nanashi says. "You will, though."
#
Kaneshiro joins them soon enough, a big black duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. Muzaki climbs into the driver's seat, and Nanashi hops into the passenger. Kaneshiro gets into the back with Akira, and he sees a number of other older yakuza getting into another car a few spaces over.
Someone turns the ignition, and over the speakers a voice screams, "ALL ABOARDDDDD AH HA HA HA," in English, followed by a bassline even Akira knew. He glances at Kaneshiro, who grins broadly, and starts to nod his head to the beat as 'Crazy Train,' begins to kick out. Then, they are driving out of the garage.
They drive through the winding streets of Tokyo. The sun is still high in the sky, but through the tinted windows, it appears that dusk has fallen across the town. No one says anything as they drive, and Kaneshiro stares out the window, regarding the various people who move and cross the street. The second car follows them, close behind, but they obey all the traffic laws as they head to their destination.
Akira's mind runs through scenarios. He wonders if he's been found out. Do they know who I am? That I'm a Phantom Thief? That seems very unlikely, but he can't help being bothered by it. If so, were they taking him somewhere to kill him? To hurt him? By why drag him out of the building, then? They attacked Sakoda inside. Why take Akira somewhere else to do the deed?
Eventually, the cars turn into an alley, and come to a stop a short distance away from the street. Kaneshiro looks at his two men in the front, and nods. Nanashi gets out, and motions towards the second car, parked behind them. Four men get out of the car, armed with bats and batons, and as one, they dash through a side door into a small building.
Akira's eyes widen, but Kaneshiro and Muzaki say nothing. The car is soundproofed, so he can't hear what's going on inside, but he can imagine so much.
Time passes, and in the stillness, Akira feels himself flush. He can sense it, smell it, almost. The violence. The brutality he is now immersed in. This is not something he wants to be a part of. This is not something he should be here for. His eyes drift towards the black duffle bag Kaneshiro holds in his lap, and he can only wonder what's within.
The door opens and Nanashi steps out. He wears a grin, and waves to Kaneshiro, who chuckles, throws open the door and steps out. "Come on, Akira," he says. Akira opens his own door and slides out. Muzaki doesn't shift, and nods to Kaneshiro as he heads inside.
Akira follows, and finds himself in a kitchen. He sees no staff, but there's an oven and sinks and stainless steel everything, the things he usually associates with a busy restaurant. He walks through it and eventually emerges into a bar not unlike Crossroads. The decor is different, with more wood and tablecloths and less red and dim light, but from his time working there, he recognizes it for what it is.
In the center of the room, members of Kaneshiro's gang surround a man tied to a chair. A horribly familiar sensation creeps into Akira's spine.
"What the fuck is this?" The man yells, looking from one person to another. His back is to them, as they've emerged behind him. "You're all dead, you understand that? I'm with the Dragon. The Boss isn't going to let this stand. I'll-"
"Kai-san," Kaneshiro intones. "It's good to see you."
The man in the chair freezes. "K-Kaneshiro? Is that you?"
Kaneshiro walks around until he's facing the man. Akira slinks up towards the wall, trying to remain out of sight. He can see the profile now. The man tied down is older, and his lip is split. A goatee surrounds his mouth, and he's well dressed in a tan suit and tie.
"What is this?" Kai asks. "Tell these goons to untie me."
"I'm not going to do that, Kai," Kaneshiro says. "And I think you know why."
Kai stares up at him for a time, then the edges of his mouth curve upward. "This is it then? Opening salvo?"
"Salvo," Kaneshiro repeats. "I like that word."
"The Boss didn't want to believe you'd turn on him, but I always knew better. Always figured you for a massive little shit-heeled traitor."
"I'm not the traitor," Kaneshiro replies. He takes a step towards Kai.
"Think about this, for God's sake. Do you really think this will work? The Dragon's strong, Kaneshiro. Your little group won't survive against it in the long run. Hell, you won't survive in the short run. Untie me, let me up, and I can help you smooth this out with the Boss."
Kaneshiro hunches over until he's eye-level with Kai. "The Boss can't do shit against me, or he would have by now."
Kai rolls his eyes, but he doesn't look so sure anymore. "Bullshit. I know the rumors. That you can make people die. That you've got protections. Well, if that's true, why are you here? Why didn't you just use these special, secret powers of yours to finish me off?" Kai nods towards the other men in the room. "Why burst in here and bust me up in the first place? Why tie me down, if you're so powerful?"
Akira looks around. Nanashi's face never changes, but he catches a few glimpses from Kaneshiro's other followers. They glance at one another with worried expressions.
"Where would the fun in that be?" Kaneshiro asks. "I can do many things, and one of those is get my hands dirty. You can't rely on other people in life. You have to rely on yourself." He chuckles. "Look at you now. You relied on the Boss. Thought he'd protect you forever. But that's not the case, is it?"
Kaneshiro drops the duffle bag to the ground, and kneels. He unzips it, and Akira watches as he pulls free the power drill from earlier.
"All you following this bastard," Kai calls. "You know he's insane right? He swore an oath, you all swore oaths! If you let him do this, you're all dead. The Dragon will find you all and burn you alive."
Kaneshiro flicks a switch, and pulls the trigger on the drill. The noise slices through the air. "I am the Dragon," Kaneshiro tells him, and begins to walk around behind him. "The Boss will be next."
"It doesn't have to be this way," Kai shouts. "Think about it. You want things to change. That's fine. Others want things to change too. You shouldn't think you're the only one who doesn't approve the Boss's plan. I can take things to him for you. I can arrange a sit down. We can talk things through, find a kind of middle ground. This doesn't have to end in violence."
Kaneshiro doesn't reply.
"I can be your messenger!" Kai screams.
Kaneshiro rests a hand on Kai's shoulder, and angles the drill towards the man's skull. "You're not my messenger. You're my message."
Then, he drills into the man's head.
##
A/N: #Powertools, am I right?